Caught in the Light (39 page)

"No. Not at all."

"How will he react?"

"You want my professional opinion?"

"Yes."

She pondered the point as we sped through another grey motor iv mile, "RaHlv '

way mile. "Badly.

We drove straight to Faith's workplace in Hounslow. I sat outside in the car while Daphne went in ahead of me. No good was going to come of my being present when Faith learned what game Nyman was playing. I didn't want her to think I was revelling in her disillusionment. What I wanted above all was for her to have no room for doubt in the matter. She had to be shown what he really was. And she had to believe it. Beyond question.

Looking in from the car park, I spotted them in a ground-floor room. Faith was at the window, staring out expressionlessly, just too far away for me to be able to tell if she was looking at me or not. Daphne was behind her, in shadow, walking a few paces to and fro as she spoke. They could have been discussing any workaday problem. The gestures would have been much the same. Daphne was trying to sound calm and reasonable. Faith was pretending to be unmoved. But the dumb show didn't fool me. This was the shattering of a dream. I let it go on for ten minutes or so. Then some marginal loss of intensity in their tight-lipped exchanges told me it was time to join them. Faith knew now. She understood if she was ever going to. Whether she railed at me or not was irrelevant. We had to plan ahead.

They were waiting for me in silence, standing apart in the room, avoiding each other's gaze. Faith seemed determined to avoid my gaze, too. She didn't turn round as I entered.

"Faith?"

"It's all right," said Daphne. "She believes me."

"How couldn't I?" said Faith dully. "She's not a wayward husband with doubtful motives, is she?"

"I'm sorry."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm not enjoying this."

"Neither am I."

"We need to decide what to do."

"I have decided." Now she did look at me. "I'm going to take Amy to stay with my parents until the new term begins."

"And then?"

"That's none of your business. I have Daphne's promise that Conrad Nyman will be off our backs by then."

"Faith's supposed to be meeting him at the Waldorf this evening at six thirty for drinks before going on to the theatre," Daphne explained. "I've suggested you and I meet him instead and propose a pact. A clean break on both sides. No police, no enquiries, no questions."

"Which has the handy advantage of leaving her professional reputation miraculously intact." Faith's tone was flat, her meaning plain. "Nevertheless, I'm willing to go along with it."

"He's a dangerous man, Faith." I held her gaze, urging her to remember what was far more important than all our petty resentments. "We have to give him a way out."

"Then you'd better make sure he takes it."

"He will," said Daphne. "It's an offer he can't refuse."

"I'm relying on you, Ian." Faith looked straight at me. "Don't let me down." The unspoken word again hovered in the air. "Don't let Amy down."

"I won't."

"Are we agreed?" asked Daphne.

Faith and I nodded. Then, realizing I was about to speak, she cut me short. "I don't think anything more needs to be said." I shrugged, trying to communicate some of the sympathy and the regret she clearly didn't want to hear put into words. "Only I do have work to do. And so, it seems, do you."

"She took it well," said Daphne as we walked away down the corridor.

"You think so?"

"Nobody likes to be made a fool of. And nobody likes to analyse the experience. It was a shock, naturally. Nyman's been the perfect suitor. Too perfect, in a way. For what it's worth, I think she was half expecting something to go wrong. It was all too good to be true."

"What about Nyman? Will he be expecting something to go wrong?"

"I don't know. It doesn't really matter, so long as he accepts our offer."

"And will he?"

"He has to."

"Simple as that?"

"Yes." She paused before adding, "If it works."

The appointment Nyman didn't know he had with us left me time to call in on Tim to check if the police had been looking for me. They hadn't. But someone else had.

"Nicole? What did she want?"

"Information about Nyman. It seems he was supposed to be at a press conference this morning to unveil Nymanex's annual report, but he didn't show. She seemed to think you might know why."

"Well, I don't."

"I told her you wouldn't. It gave me the chance to quiz her about Nyman, though, like I said I would. His past really is a total blank, apparently."

"Not any longer, Tim. I know as much about him as I need to know. And far more than I like."

Daphne was already sitting in the bar, nursing a gin and tonic and a half-smoked cigar, when I reached the Waldorf shortly after six o'clock.

"You look worried," I said as I joined her.

"I am."

"I thought it was all going to be very simple."

"I thought that, too. But I was wrong."

"Aren't you being rather defeatist?"

"No. Accurate. There was a message waiting for me when I arrived." She passed me a crumpled sheet of Waldorf-crested notepaper. "From Nyman."

"But ... he couldn't have .. ." I flattened the sheet on the table and read the message aloud." "Miss Sanger, Mr. Nyman presents his apologies and regrets he will be unable to join you and Mr. Jarrett as planned." I looked up at Daphne. "Asplanned." He knew. How? Surely Faith wouldn't have told him."

"I hardly think so. He must have guessed."

"Guessed?"

"There was a car, a few places behind us, all the way along the motorway, just too far back for me to see the driver. I noticed it a couple of times, but I didn't like to mention it. I... thought I was just being ... paranoid."

"You think he followed us from Bath?"

She nodded. "Yes. I do."

"That's why he wasn't at the press conference." I waved away her frown of puzzlement. "And he'll have known what it meant when we left the motorway at Hounslow."

"I'm afraid so."

"Where's Faith now?"

"En route to her parents' with Amy, I hope."

"You hop el Christ almighty." It was all going wrong. I could sense it falling apart around me. I pulled out my mobile and punched in my old home number. Faith answered at the first ring. Her words and the tone of them told me at once what was wrong.

"Amy -is that you?"

"It's not Amy, Faith. It's me."

'Ian? Do you know where she is?"

"Amy? Of course not. Why isn't she with you?"

"She wasn't here when I got home. I've been phoning round her friends, but none of them have seen her. She must have gone shopping or something. I don't know. A walk, maybe. It's a fine evening. She'll probably be back any minute." But she didn't believe that. Any more than I did. "Are you at the Waldorf, Ian?"

"Yes. Nyman isn't coming here, Faith. He left a message. He knew what we were planning."

"How?"

"I don't know. What matters is Amy. Would she go with him, if he spun a plausible enough yarn?"

"Probably." Her voice was flat, more despairing than grudging.

"Then that's what must have happened."

"Not necessarily. She may still '

"He's taken her, Faith. You know it; I know it. Nyman's taken our daughter. And we have to get her back before I broke off, unable to frame the thought in words.

"Before what?"

"Never mind. Just stay where you are."

Faith didn't know the kind of man we were dealing with. The charmer had been revealed to her as a liar and a manipulator. But he was worse than that. I just wasn't sure I had the heart to tell her how much worse.

It took us nearly an hour to reach Castelnau through the early evening traffic. By then Faith had phoned every last friend of Amy's with the same result, several of them for a second time. She'd also phoned Derringfold Place, as well as Nyman's Barbican flat and his Docklands office. But he wasn't at any of them. And nor was Amy.

"Why didn't you warn me he might do something like this?" she demanded.

"It wouldn't have made any difference," reasoned Daphne. "He was probably already on his way here while we were talking about him at your office."

"But what does he hope to accomplish? Amy will soon realize he isn't taking her to meet me. He can't keep her against her will." She looked from one to the other of us, hoping, I suppose, that we'd agree. "Can he?"

"There's nothing to suggest he's personally capable of physical violence," said Daphne.

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"Listen, Faith," I began. "We need to stay calm."

"This is all your fault." She rounded on me, sounding anything but calm. "If you hadn't leapt into bed with that tart in Vienna '

"He'd have found some other way to get at me. At MS. You still don't seem to understand."

"Don't tell me what I do or don't understand. I want Amy back."

"So do I. But shouting at each other isn't going to get us anywhere."

"All right, all right." She waved her hand at me, then walked to the window and back, twice, breathing deeply, searching for some kind of mental balance. "Should we phone the police?"

"I wouldn't," said Daphne. "There's no proof Amy's with Nyman. She's fourteen years old. The police won't take her absence seriously until tomorrow. By then Nyman may have made contact."

"So we just waltT

"I think that might be best."

"But she's not your daughter, is she?"

"No, I realize '

"I don't think you do. I don't think you have any idea. Come to that, how can I be sure you're really trying to help? For all I know you could still be working for Nyman."

"You have to trust me, Faith. Nyman promised me no-one would get hurt. I had no reason to expect he'd do anything like this."

"Where's he taken her?"

"I don't know. I'm not his confidante. He's deceived me as well as you."

"Derringfold Place, perhaps. The maid said he hadn't been there all day, but maybe she'd been instructed to say that."

"I doubt it. It would be too obvious."

"Somewhere else, then."

"Yes. Somewhere only he knows about. Somewhere he's prepared for just this contingency."

"Prepared? You think he's been planning this for some time?"

"Maybe. Like I told you, I don't know."

"You don't know," Faith repeated dully. "He doesn't know," she added, her voice cracking as she pointed at me. She was on the verge of tears now, but anger, with me, with Daphne, with herself, was holding them back. "None of us '

The telephone was ringing. It was as if it had been ringing for several minutes without anyone noticing. But now it was loud and clear in our ears. For a second, we stood stock still, staring at each other. Then Faith ran past me into the hall and grabbed the receiver.

"Amy?" It was more a hope than a question. And the hope died in the dull silence that followed. When Faith spoke again, she sounded sullen, almost resentful. "Yes. All right. Hold on."

"Who is it?" I asked as she walked back into the room.

"Tim."

"Tim?"

"Yes. He wants to speak to you."

"How did he know I was here?"

"Don't ask me. Just get rid of him. And don't tell him anything.

OK?"

"OK." I went out into the hall and picked up the telephone. "Tim?"

"I have to see you right away, Ian."

"I really don't think I can '

"Get over here, will you? There's something you have to ... Just get over here." And with that he put the phone down.

I stared at the dead receiver, wondering if I should call him back. But Tim was the most phlegmatic of people. He never made a fuss. He never exaggerated. He always meant what he said. And what he'd said I couldn't ignore. Already, I was certain it had something to do with Amy.

"I have to go over to Parsons Green," I said, returning to the lounge. "Can I, er, borrow the car, Faith?"

"You .. . whatT

"It's urgent."

"Amy's missing. Possibly kidnapped. Isn't that urgent?"

"Of course it is. But Tim will think it odd if I don't go. We don't want him to realize there's something wrong."

"What can possibly be so urgent? Tim's life runs like clockwork. He has nothing to worry about."

"Look, it won't take long. I'll be back within the hour."

I caught a suspicious glance from Daphne. But Faith was too distracted to be suspicious. "Oh, for God's sake," she snapped, marching out to fetch the car key.

"What's going on?" asked Daphne in an undertone.

"I'm not sure."

"It's Nyman, isn't it?"

"Maybe. If so, it's best I go alone, don't you think?"

But the only answer Daphne could give me was an assenting nod as Faith rejoined us.

"Here," she said icily, handing me the key. "Help yourself."

"I'm sorry about this."

"Really?" She stared at me. "I don't understand you any more, Ian, you know that? I don't understand a single thing about you. Amy needs you, not Tim. If you had a shred of decency .. ." She shook her head in weary condemnation.

"I have no choice."

"There's always a choice." She paused, weighing her words. "It's just that you always choose wrong."

Tim must have been looking out for me. He opened the front door as I ran up the path and slammed it shut behind me.

"Amy's missing, isn't she?" he asked in the flat tone of one who already knew the answer.

"Yes. We think Nyman has her."

"You're right."

"How do you know?"

"He told me. Over the telephone, about half an hour ago."

"He rangyow?"

"Yes. Because he had a message for you and you alone and reckoned I could get it to you."

"What did he say?"

"You can hear for yourself. He told me to ring off and switch on the answer phone so he could call again and record a message." Tim led the way into the lounge and over to the telephone as he spoke. "Ready?"

I nodded and he switched the machine on. There was an electronic bleep, then Nyman's voice, echoing faintly on the tape so that it sounded almost disembodied.